The Death of Basil of Baker Street
by DiscordantPrincess
Summary: Ratigan asks Basil over for drinks, but he may have something more sinister in mind.


**Hello, everyone. OK, just as a heads up, this is probably the scariest and most disturbing thing I've ever written. You may want to skip this one if that's not your thing. That being said, enjoy!**

LONDON 1895

Rain pelted down hard. Basil shivered as he pulled his deerstalker hat further down on his head. He hurried his way down the dock and to the door of the Rat Trap, the seediest pub in London.

Basil unbuttoned his shirt breast pocket and took out a folded piece of paper. He unfolded it and read the words written on it in broad quill pen:

_BASIL,_

_I WISH TO MAKE AMENDS WITH YOU. COME BY THE RAT TRAP ALONE AT TEN TONIGHT._

_YOURS TRULY,_

_PROFESSOR RATIGAN_

The detective shook his head. Something didn't feel right. There was no way that fiend Ratigan wanted to become friends. But he had come by alone. He sighed and went into the Rat Trap. He looked around. No one was inside. "Hello?"

"Ah, Basil," a familiar voice spoke up behind him. Basil turned around to see Ratigan standing behind him. "Good to see you again." The rat took a gold pocket watch – most likely stolen – out of his vest pocket and looked at it. "Hmm, quarter past ten. You're late. Naughty boy."

The detective looked around again. "Where IS everyone?"

"I had the owners of the bar close down tonight so it would just be you and me," Ratigan explained.

"Why? So there won't be any witnesses when you rip my head off?"

Ratigan sat down at the bar, feigning insult. "Why Basil, I'm offended. I called you here to bury the hatchet, remember?"

Basil sat at the bar as far away from Ratigan as possible. "Yes, and knowing you, you'll probably bury it in my belly."

The professor chuckled. "You ARE a paranoid fellow, aren't you? It's all right, you can sit closer, I won't bite."

Basil frowned, but moved a few seats closer to where Ratigan was seated. "There you go. That's better. Now, care for a drink?" The rat offered him a glass of pinkish liquid.

The detective accepted the glass. "Thank you." He sniffed it. "What is this?"

"A special little concoction I made just for you," Ratigan answered, a slight grin on his face.

Basil eyed the professor. "Where's your glass?"

"Oh, I've been trying to cut back. Slight liver damage."

Basil blinked. He didn't know what to do. His brain was screaming not to drink it, that it was poison, but his heart was telling him to trust Ratigan. _Y'know what, I've listened to my brain my entire life_, the detective decided. _It's time to listen to my heart for a change_. He smiled and gulped down the contents of the glass. "Mmm, this is quite good."

Ratigan smiled. "I'm glad."

Basil smiled a little. Maybe he WAS just being a bit paranoid. Suddenly, he moaned and clutched his belly. He could feel the drink sloshing around his stomach. His head was spinning. He felt like he was about to die.

And then, the detective began to shrink. He shrunk and shrunk until he was extremely tiny. "What the deuce?"

Ratigan chuckled wickedly as he picked the tiny detective up by the tail. "Aww, aren't you cute?"

"Ratigan, you fiend! What is the meaning of this?" Basil demanded.

"The meaning of it is, my foolproof plan to be rid of you once and for all," Ratigan replied.

Basil growled. "So it WAS a trick! You really DIDN'T want to make amends!"

"Bravo, Basil, you figured out the obvious. Unfortunately, you figured it out a bit too late. Now, you shall die." With that, Ratigan dropped the shrunken mouse into his mouth and swallowed. "Mmm, yummy."

* * *

Basil screamed as he fell down a dark tunnel. After a minute, he finally landed with a thud. He groaned, a bit dazed, and sat up. "Ow, my head." Just then, he gasped as he realized where he was.

He was inside Ratigan's stomach!

Basil looked around, observing his surroundings. Other than himself, there wasn't much food in the rat's stomach. The walls were a disgusting shade of pink, and there was a pool of greenish acid a little ways from the detective's feet. The whole place smelled worse than a sewer. It was nauseating.

Ratigan chuckled. "Well, Basil, what you you think of your new home?"

"I should've known you'd be as ugly on the inside as you are on the outside," Basil responded.

"Ouch. Make sure not to cut yourself with those sharp comebacks, Bas."

Basil growled angrily. "You slimy rat! Let me out this instant!" he demanded. He jumped up and down, running around and flipping out.

Ratigan laughed as he felt the detective moving around in his stomach. "Cut it out, that tickles!"

Basil frowned and stopped, flopping himself down onto the ground…or rather, the bottom of Ratigan's stomach. "The only reason I'm stopping is because I'm tired."

"You might as well just relax and enjoy yourself, because you're going to be in there for the rest of your life…which should only be the next few minutes or so."

Basil gulped. He watched in horror as the stomach acid seeped its way over to where he was. The greenish goop enveloped his body, starting to burn him. The detective screamed as he was being digested alive. And then, silence.

Ratigan smiled contently and rubbed his tummy, now gurgling pleasantly as it finished off the mouse detective. "Finally, I am rid of that miserable detective forever. Now no one can stand in my way, unless they want to end up sharing Basil's fate." The villain laughed wickedly to himself.

* * *

"AAAAAAAAAAUGH!" Basil screamed as he jolted awake. He sat up and panted heavily. He looked around.

He was in his bedroom.

He was still alive.

It had all been a nightmare.

Mrs. Judson, Basil's landlady and housekeeper, came into the room. "Mr. Basil? Are you all right? I heard screaming."

Basil sighed with relief. "Oh, thank God. I'm not in Ratigan's stomach."

The middle-aged female mouse eyed her tenant oddly. "No, you're not. Are you sure you're feeling well?"

"I'm quite fine, Mrs. Judson, thank you. Just a bad dream."

"Oh. Would you like me to make you a pot of soothing tea to help calm your nerves?"

Basil nodded. "That would be lovely, thank you."

"I'll be right back." Mrs. Judson left.

The detective sighed to himself as he tried to push the horrible dream out of his mind. He pressed his fingers against his forehead. "I am DEFINITELY never eating five cheese crumpets before bed again."

**And that, my friends, is what is known as the twist ending. Oh come on, you really think I'd kill off my favorite Disney hero? Especially in such a gross way. Oh well, consider it a late April Fool's Day story. **

**I don't even know what possessed me to write this, other than I've had similar nightmares, especially when I have a fever. (shudders) Fever dreams are weird. **

**Thanks for reading. Hope I haven't scared you all COMPLETELY witless. **

**All my best, DiscordantPrincess.**


End file.
